


these arms were made for holding you

by takesmeunder



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom Harry, Bottoming from the Top, Drinking & Talking, Face-Fucking, First Time, M/M, Masturbation, Pining Niall, Semi-Public Sex, Top Niall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 04:42:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2799980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takesmeunder/pseuds/takesmeunder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts with, "I'd do Niall."</p><p>Somewhere around the middle it becomes, "Don't knock it till you try it, Niall." and, "Who's the last person you had sex with?"</p><p>Niall's not sure, but it could quite possibly end with, "You haven't told your parents we're dating?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	these arms were made for holding you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sakabelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakabelle/gifts).



> While writing this I remembered why I stick to fics that are 2k or less. I hope sakabelle enjoys it regardless. Sorry if it doesn't live up to expectations. Massive thanks to my always willing beta who will be named when authors are revealed!

**June 28th, 2014**

Three words.

Three words was all it took for Niall’s entire world to be turned upside-down. Or rather, his frame of mind. Three silly words, more than likely said as a joke, and Niall suddenly can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to have Harry’s hands on his bare skin.

“I’d do Niall!”

They’re echoing in his head even now, long after the show is done and over with. It’s ridiculous is the thing, Niall’s never even thought of Harry like that before. Never imagined what it would be like to be taken to bed by Harry Styles, never really thought it would be something attainable. Niall’s never really had an interest in any bloke, if he’s being honest. Maybe a drunken kiss with one of the lads during an early game of truth or dare, but nothing that made his heart beat a little faster and his palms start to sweat.

Niall flips the covers off, star fishing across the hotel bed. It feels warm in the room all of a sudden, a strange prickling sensation underneath Niall’s skin that he can’t seem to shake. He ends up sliding a hand into his boxers, slowly stroking himself to full hardness while he bites at his lip. Niall loves getting off, loves the way he knows exactly how to twist his wrist on the upstroke to make his toes curl into the mattress.

Tonight is different though, Niall’s usual wank bank appears to be taking a night off. He’s left with thoughts of Harry’s long fingers and how they’d feel wrapped around his cock. The way Harry would look on his knees, eyes glancing up at Niall while he licked around the head before sliding his mouth down, down, down until his nose pressed against Niall’s pubic bone. He imagines Harry would probably be the type to get off on it, his own hand down between his legs, wanking himself off while he’s got a mouthful of cock. It’s that thought, of Harry getting off on getting him off that has Niall coming in pulses over his own fist, his best mates name falling from his lips as his head tips back against the pillows.

After he’s cleaned himself off and slid beneath the covers, Niall realizes he is completely and thoroughly fucked, and not in the good way.

* * *

 

**July- October, 2014**

If Niall thought that was the end of it, that Harry had his laugh and moved on, he has never been more wrong in his life.

Harry doesn’t stop.

He doesn’t tell any more stadiums filled with fifty thousand people that he’d fuck Niall, but he does push the boundaries of what Niall would consider standard bandmate practices.

In Dusseldorf, he changes the lyrics of Strong to ‘you make me long’ while eyeing Niall up and down. In Philadelphia, Harry pulls him into a hug so tight it knocks the breath from him for a moment, but Niall gives it back just as good. Detroit and Dallas, Harry rubs the back of his fingers against Niall’s dick when he gets close. On his birthday in Pasadena, Harry grinds up against him and if Niall wasn’t beginning to expect these things on stage, he’d be at a loss for words.

The day before their final show in Miami, Niall chooses to stay in while the others take the chance to explore the area. He’s just settled in for a night of binging on terrible American television and awful junk food when there’s a bang at his hotel door.

Niall hesitates, Ho-Ho shoved half into his mouth when the banging starts again. He pays closer attention, recognizing the beat to What Makes You Beautiful. He launches himself over the back of the couch and walks quickly across the carpet.

“Haz?” Niall says, swinging the door open.

“Brought a present,” Harry says with a grin, pulling out a bottle of McCormick’s.

Niall’s face scrunches up before he can help it. “You brought me piss in a bottle. You can keep it.”

Harry looks down at the bottle with a frown. “Okay, since when were you a diva, Mr. Horan?”

“Sod off,” Niall teases, stepping back to let Harry in. “Literally one of the cheapest bottles of vodka in all of America, and somehow you found it and showed up at my hotel room. Thought you were going out with the lads?”

Harry shrugs, sitting down on the couch and twisting open the bottle. “Thought it’d be more fun to hang out with you. That okay?”

Niall finds himself nodding as he grabs two small glasses from the kitchenette and joins Harry on the sofa. “Yeah, reckon that’s okay. I’m not carrying you back to your room if you get too drunk, though. Just clearin’ that up now.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” Harry says, pouring them both a drink. “Bottom’s up.”

They clink their glasses and Niall’s tilting the clear liquid up to his mouth. It burns his tongue and throat on the way down, nearly makes him gag but he swallows past it. “Absolutely terrible,” he says, smacking his lips together. “Let’s drink until we can’t taste how awful it is.”

Harry’s got a similar look of disgust on his face, eyeing the bottle with distrust. “Reckon we’d need a few more bottles for that.”

“Nonsense, you’re a lightweight. Fill them up, Hazza. Let’s get proper drunk,” Niall nudges his glass against the bottle.

By the time they’re both sprawled out on the carpet, the bottle has a quarter of vodka left in it.

“See?” Niall says, attempting to prop himself up on an elbow and failing spectacularly. “Told ya it tastes loads better when you’re trashed.”

Harry doesn’t bother trying to lift himself off the floor. “Only ‘cause it burns off all your taste buds.”

Niall snorts. “I’m sure your tongue is just fine.”

“Why don’t you come over here and see for yourself?” Harry taunts.

“Sure,” Niall slurs, knowing Harry's not expecting him to do anything. He crawls across the carpet on his hands and knees, moving until he’s hovering over Harry’s head. “Well. Gonna open up or what?”

Harry blinks his eyes open, stares at Niall as if he’s confused about how he got there. “Gonna inspect my tongue?” he says, quirking a brow.

Niall stays put, watching as Harry slips his tongue out to wet his lips. Everything he’s been thinking about for the past couple months rushes to the forefront of his mind, and he inhales sharply through his nose at the thought of dropping down and connecting their mouths.

“Kiss me,” Harry says.  His voice comes out rough and slower than usual, like he’s had to think carefully about what he was going to say before he spoke.

Niall takes a moment, lets the haze of alcohol fade before he reaches up and rubs a thumb across Harry’s bottom lip.

“Reckon that’s not such a good idea,” Niall breathes, pulling his hand back. Every part of him aches for it, to know what it would feel like to kiss Harry, but he doesn’t want it to be like this. He wants to remember it.

Harry frowns. “S’always a good idea.”

“How about if ya still want to kiss me in the mornin’, I’ll let you have a go?” Niall says, falling backwards onto the carpet as the world starts to spin.

“Suppose that’s fair,” Harry says. “Better prepare yourself, Horan. I’m gonna knock you off your feet.”

Niall snorts, can’t help it. “If ya say so, Styles.”

In the morning, Niall wakes up with Harry sprawled across his chest and their legs tangled together on the floor. There’s a small hope blooming in his chest when Harry blinks himself awake and peers up at Niall.

“Morning,” Niall says softly, clearing his throat. “Make a pretty good pillow, do I?”

Harry smiles sleepily, drops his head back down onto Niall’s chest. “You’re alright,” he says. “Christ, shouldn’t have drank so much. My mouth tastes like sandpaper.”

“Lightweight,” teases Niall. “Get off me, ya big lug.”

Harry’s hand digs into Niall’s side and he presses in closer. “Comfy.”

“Get up,” Niall says, pushing himself up just to see Harry fall to the side. “Final show today.”

Harry sighs, his face dropping. “Can’t believe the tour’s over already. Feels like it just started.”

“Yeah,” Niall agrees. One thing he and Harry have always agreed on is how much they love touring. By the end of it, all five of them are tired and missing home, but Niall and Harry miss performing the most. “Was a good one though. Had a good time.”

“Sure did,” Harry says. “Heading out to LA tonight, though.”

Niall isn’t surprised. “Not gonna drink with the locals tonight?”

Harry shakes his head, hair going in every direction. “Nah, mate. Maybe next time.”

Niall’s never understood Harry’s inability to stay at home when they’re on break. He’s always up and moving, meeting new people in LA and writing songs and attending business meetings. Niall’s much more of a home-body, preferring to catch up with mates and take a trip home to Mullingar for the holidays. Which reminds him, he needs to call his dad and say he’s coming home for Christmas.

“You heading back to Holmes Chapel for Christmas?” Niall asks, climbing to his feet.

“Might do,” Harry says, shifting forward onto his knees. “You tell Bobby you’re coming home for the holidays?”

Something warm floods Niall’s chest over the thought of Harry thinking about his dad. “Will before the show. He’ll be thrilled.”

“He will be. Probably hear his scream of excitement all the way over here,” Harry says with a grin.

Niall smiles, tugging his shirt up and over his head. “Go get changed, ya slag,” he says, gesturing towards Harry’s body. “Still in last night’s clothes. People will think you’re doing the walk of shame.”

“No such thing as a walk of shame,” Harry retorts, but pulls himself to a standing position regardless. “See ya at sound check?”

“Can’t exactly sing without me, can you?” Niall says.

Harry rolls his eyes as he swings open the hotel room door, and if Niall feels a little disappointed that he didn’t get kissed, he pretends he doesn’t.

**November, 2014**

It’s nearly a month between the end of the tour and the beginning of promo for their new album. It’s disappointing, but completely unsurprising, that Niall doesn’t see Harry in person until it starts.

“Nialler!” Harry says, pulling him into a hug. “Been missin’ ya.”

He says it like they haven’t been texting and FaceTiming nearly every day he’s been in LA. Niall lets himself enjoy the feeling of being wrapped in Harry’s arms, stamps down the urge to frown when Harry pulls away.

“As if,” Niall says instead. “Been out in LA bein’ a proper popstar. No time for little ol’ me.”

“Sod off,” Harry says fondly. “S’good to be back though.”

Niall shrugs as they settle onto the couch, resists the smile threatening to break through as Harry takes the seat beside him.

It’s a whirlwind of interviews, dozens of journalists and interviewers coming and going from their secret location. Niall notices that Harry seems a bit looser than usual, more like the person he is when the cameras aren’t around and less like the guy who puts on a smile and does what he’s told.

Niall’s lost track of the questions at this point, hardly paying attention to what’s being said as he bites at his nails. It’s only when they start discussing who they’re going to pretend Niall’s sleeping with during the promo tour, and the interviewer suggests a man that he starts paying attention.

“Don’t go a man,” Niall says, talking over Liam and Louis as they giggle. It’s not that he’s bothered by the interviewer implying he’d sleep with a man, because he’s skipped the gay crisis over break. It’s rather that he doesn’t want the newspapers swarming him about it before the album comes out. As it stands, it seems management is going to have their hands full with Harry these next few weeks.

As if he can read Niall’s mind, Harry looks at him with a cheeky grin and goes, “Don’t knock it till you try it, Niall.”

Niall prays to every deity that his face doesn’t flush the shade of red he thinks it does. He pointedly ignores Harry’s comment, keeping his eyes trained on the interviewer as the questions continue. He’s not sure if Harry was volunteering or offering, but as he bites down on the skin of his finger, he’s going to find out.

* * *

 

It takes all of Niall’s strength not to do some bravery shots before he heads over to Harry’s hotel room that night. All he knows is that if there’s a chance, if there’s even the slightest possibility that something could happen, he wants to be sober.

Niall stands in front of Harry’s hotel room, biting at his nail while he gathers the courage to actually knock. He doesn’t know why he’s building himself up so much over this, Harry’s one of his best mates. The worst thing that could possibly happen here is Harry laughing it off and inviting him in for a drink.

Before he loses his nerve, he taps out the opening chords to What Makes You Beautiful against the door. When Harry pulls it open, Niall doesn’t hesitate. “Back there, when you told me not to knock it till I tried it. Were you offering?”

Harry seems confused for a moment, eyebrows furrowing before his eyes widen in surprise. “I didn’t think… I didn’t know you uh, swung that way.”

“S’not what I asked, Haz,” Niall says, and he can feel his courage slipping away. “Just forget I said anything, yeah?” He goes to turn but Harry grabs his wrist and tugs him into the room.

Niall watches as Harry shuts the door, flipping the lock over with a quiet click noise. When he turns, Niall stares determinedly at the floor.

“Ni, look at me,” Harry says softly, and Niall has no choice but to do what he asks when he uses that tone. “I’m serious. Don’t think I’ve ever heard you mention fancying a lad in the four years I’ve known you.”

Niall has a retort on the tip of his tongue, something about how Harry is one of the most oblivious people he knows, but instead of speaking he closes the distance between them and puts his lips to Harry’s.

To his credit, Harry’s quick on reacting. His arm slides around Niall’s waist, long fingers curling into Niall’s side as he tugs him closer. Niall gets lost in it, how easily they fit together, how quickly they get use to each other’s movement and he barely notices as Harry backs them up towards the bed.

It’s not until the backs of his knees hit the mattress and his arse hits the bed that he snaps himself out of it, pulling away from Harry’s mouth with a gasp. “Haz?”

Harry looks down at him, lips red and a little swollen from kissing. “I was offering,” he says, breathless. “Maybe without realizing it, but. I’m offering.”

Niall feels his heartbeat thudding against his ribcage, nerves creeping up and making his stomach flip over in anticipation. “Reckon I’d like to take you up on that offer,” he says, eyes trained on Harry’s chest as he pulls his shirt up and tosses it somewhere beside the bed. “Not sure how good I’ll be though. Never done it before.”

“Got enough experience for us both, don’t I?” Harry says, gesturing for Niall to move up the bed.

“Do ya now?” Niall ignores the jealousy flaring up as he reaches the pillows. “What kind of experience are we talkin’ here?”

Harry shrugs while he works open his belt. “Doesn’t matter. But I think I’d really like it if you fucked me.”

Niall takes a sharp breath at that, gaze settling on the outline of Harry’s half hard cock in his briefs. “I guess I could give it a go,” he says, only glancing up at Harry’s face when he clears his throat to get Niall’s attention.

“It’s just that it’s your first time with a lad, right?” Harry asks as he climbs onto the bed. “Might be easier, that’s all.”

Niall reaches a hand out as Harry settles on his thighs. “No, I’m good. You’ll just have to teach me, is all.”

Harry slides a hand beneath Niall’s shirt, fingers fanning out across his abdomen. Niall tries and fails not to shiver, his body pressing up into Harry’s hand. “You’re gorgeous.”

Niall feels the flush travelling down his cheeks and chest, lets his eyes flutter closed as Harry tugs his shirt up and off. He settles back into the pillows, watching Harry through a half-lidded gaze. “Not so bad yourself.”

Harry leans over to the side table, pushing some things around before he leans back with a bottle of lube and a condom. “Either I can get myself ready, or you can do it.”

Niall swallows, grips at Harry’s waist and then flips them so Harry’s where he just was. “Could I suck you first?”

Harry nods, and Niall slips down his body. He leaves kisses as he goes, tongue poking out to lick at each of Harry’s nipples in turn as he makes his way to his destination. When he gets to Harry’s briefs, he glances up. “Good?”

“Yeah,” Harry whispers, sucking his lip between his teeth. “All good.”

Niall hooks his fingers into the waistband, tugging the briefs down Harry’s long, long legs and dropping them on the floor behind him. Harry’s cock is curved up towards his stomach, wet and leaking at the tip. Niall’s mouth waters.

That’s new.

He slides his palms up Harry’s calves as he leans down, uses one hand to get Harry’s cock upright. He swallows again, then takes the head into his mouth.

Harry’s hips jerk up but Niall’s already gets his hands pinning them to the mattress. He glances up as he drops his mouth further down, tongue flicking along the underside as Harry’s moan echoes in the stillness of the room.

“For someone who’s – _fuck_ \- never sucked cock before, you – _uh_ -, sure know what you’re doing,” Harry pants out.

Niall would smirk if it wasn’t for the dick in his mouth. He tries to swallow around it, but finds his gag reflex acting up when he does. He must make a noise because Harry’s stroking his face and he can feel the way Harry’s holding his own hips back.

“Sorry, sorry,” Harry gasps.

Niall doesn’t want that at all. He digs his fingers into the meat of Harry’s arse and pulls him up, pushes past the burn as Harry’s cock slides down his throat.

“ _Fuck_!” Harry’s hand finds Niall’s hair, tugging harshly and Niall pulls off with an annoyed sound.

“I wasn’t done,” Niall says.

Harry’s gripping the base of his cock. “Was gonna come down your throat and I don’t want to do that till you’re inside of me.”

Niall nods wordlessly, taking the bottle of lube from where Harry’s offering it to him.  He squeezes some out onto his fingers, ignoring Harry’s laugh when most of it drops onto the sheets. “Oh, shut up.”

“Make me,” Harry says.

Niall’s never been one to back down from a challenge. He slicks up his fingers again, rubbing it against his thumb before he moves his hand between Harry’s legs.

Harry’s hot and tight, arsehole clenching where Niall’s fingers are pressing. “C’mon, babe. Relax for me,” Niall says, kissing at the side of Harry’s thigh. “I’ll make it good, yeah?”

Harry lets out a breath, muscles relaxing enough for Niall to push in his index finger. Harry’s all heat, the inside of him squeezing around Niall’s finger like a vice. “Shitting fuck,” Niall says in wonder, watching Harry’s hole as he moves his finger in and out. “So tight, Hazza.”

Niall’s two fingers deep and barely restraining himself from humping the mattress when Harry grabs the bottom of his wrist.

“If you like, crook your fingers… yeah, _fuck_ , like that,” Harry whines, falling back into the pillows.

“Christ,” Niall does it again, watches with interest as Harry starts to fuck back onto his hand. His head is twisting back and forth, knuckles white as he grips at the sheets.

“ _Fuck me_ ,” Harry pleads suddenly, reaching for Niall. “I’m ready, I promise.”

Niall licks his lips, debates adding another finger. “You sure?”

“God, yes. Just fuck me,” Harry begs. He waits a moment before tacking on a soft, “Please.”

“Yeah, okay,” Niall kicks off his jeans and boxers, strokes himself a few times and then positions himself back between Harry’s legs. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Harry gets a soft look on his face, and then he’s clenching his legs around Niall and reversing their positions like Niall weighs nothing.

“Uh,” Niall says thoughtfully, watching with wide eyes as Harry rips open the condom with his teeth. “Proper porn star.”

“Whatever,” Harry says, rolling the rubber down. He spreads lube down Niall’s length and then he’s bracketing Niall’s hips, leaning back to hold Niall’s cock steady before starting to sink down.

“Holy shit,” Niall’s hands come up to grip at Harry’s waist. “ _Holy fucking shit_.”

Harry smirks down at him as his arse settles against Niall’s thighs. “Feels nice. You make me feel full.”

Niall tries to speak, but the words get caught in his throat as Harry lifts himself up and swivels his hips on the way down. Pathetic little whimpers work their way out of his mouth, his grip on Harry’s hips increasing with each movement Harry makes.

“So big inside me,” Harry moans, forgoing his up and down motion and just grinding his arse back to get Niall as deep as possible. “Fuck, Niall. You feel _so fucking good_.”

“You too,” Niall gasps, planting his feet on the mattress so he can fuck up into Harry’s body.

Harry’s back arches then, his own hands finding their way into his hair to pull at the ends. “I’m gonna come, Ni. You’re gonna make me come.”

Niall feels the tell-tale heat of a building orgasm at the base of his spine. He works a hand around Harry’s cock and slides the head through the fist of his fingers in a way that has Harry clenching around him. He comes seconds later, fingernails digging into Niall’s chest as he spurts over Niall’s fingers and all over his own stomach.

“Yeah, _fuck_ ,” Niall closes his eyes and rabbits his hips up, once, twice, three times before he comes into the tight press of the condom. There’s white noise in his ears and the world’s fading into blackness while Harry milks the remainder of his orgasm from him with a rock of his hips.

When Niall comes to, Harry’s got himself propped up on an elbow and he’s thrown a blanket over both of their naked bodies.

“So?” Harry prompts. “How was it?”

Niall shrugs, leans forward to press a kiss to Harry’s lips. “Reckon I shouldn’t have knocked it till I tried it.”

Harry smiles then, and Niall admires the soft pink blush that appears on his cheeks. “Glad I could be of service.”

“Is this gonna be it, then?” asks Niall. Now that he’s had a taste of this, he’s not sure if he can go back to just being mates. “Cause, like. I wouldn’t mind if we continued.”

“Are you asking me to be exclusive, Mr. Horan?” Harry says, eyes glinting.

Niall bites at his lip. “Well, if you still want to fuck other people, that’s cool? I just don’t want us to stop, yeah?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “You idiot. Of course I want to be exclusive with you. Contrary to what the papers have to say, I don’t actually sleep with half a dozen people a week.”

“I know that,” Niall says. “Just didn’t want you to feel obligated?”

Harry’s hands are suddenly bracketing his face and he’s being kissed very thoroughly. He pulls back with a lewd slurping noise and he’s staring down at Niall with a fond look. “Mate, I wouldn’t ever feel obligated about having sex with you. Reckon you’re pretty good at it, and you’re quite fit.”

Niall feels his cheeks burn. “You’re alright,” he says, and gets cuffed in the arm for his trouble. “It’s getting late. Did you want me to go to my room?”

“Nah. Need a cuddle after that,” Harry says, dropping down to rest his head on Niall’s chest.

Niall tugs the blankets up to Harry’s shoulders and wraps an arm around his shoulders. “Just have to wake up to get back to my room before Paul comes to gather us, yeah?”

Harry mumbles something into the skin of Niall’s chest, and it’s the soft back-and-forth motion of his thumb rubbing circles on his collar bone that has Niall closing his eyes and falling to sleep much quicker than usual.

* * *

 

They wake up to loud banging on the hotel room door and Paul saying he’ll skin them alive if they’re not ready to leave for the plane in five minutes.

“Shit!” Niall’s up and out of bed in seconds, searching frantically for his underwear. When he glances up it’s to find Harry’s rolled over onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. “Mate, get your kit on. We have to go. I have to pack. Fuck.”

“Thought you were gonna leave in the middle of the night,” Harry says.

Niall finishes pulling on his pants. “What. Why would I do that?”

Harry shrugs. “Like I said last night, you haven’t fancied a bloke in the four years I’ve known you. Thought you’d have a freak out or whatever.”

“Haz,” Niall feels as though his heart is slipping into his stomach. “I’ve fancied you for months.”

“Really?” Harry sits up and swings his legs off the bed. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Niall shrugs, tugging on his shirt. “You’re one of my best mates. Didn’t want to muck it up. Could never tell if you were joking or if you were being serious.”

“You absolute moron,” Harry says, smiling. “I said I would fuck you in front of fifty thousand people.”

Niall can’t help but smile back. “Thought you were being rebellious.”

Harry chucks a pillow at his head. “I fancy you too, you idiot.”

“See ya out there, yeah?” Niall says, grabbing his shoes. “I gotta pack.”

Harry pouts. “What, no goodbye kiss?”

“Maybe on the plane. If you’re good,” Niall says, ducking out the door.

* * *

 

Harry doesn’t get his kiss on the plane, but that certainly doesn’t explain how Niall finds himself pinned up against a closet wall with a shelf digging into his back. He’s also pretty sure his foot is in a mop bucket.

“Haz, what the hell-,” Niall’s silenced by Harry’s hand slapping over his mouth.

“Shh, just let me, yeah?” Harry whispers.

Niall’s about to ask what exactly he’s meant to be letting him do, but then Harry’s dropping to his knees and tugging at Niall’s belt.

“We have an interview in ten minutes,” Niall says, eyes fluttering shut when Harry gets a hand around his cock.

“Guess you better come quick,” Harry says.

Niall shoves his fist into his mouth, stifling the moan that erupts as Harry swallows him down. He’s even better than Niall imagined, tonguing the slit and adding just the right amount of suction that has Niall grasping at the shelf behind him so his knees don’t give out. When he glances down it’s to find that Harry has shoved his pants down just enough to get his cock out, and he’s stroking himself in time with the bob of his head as he sucks Niall’s cock.

“You like it a lot, don’t you?” Niall exhales, reaching down to slide a hand through Harry’s hair. “Gettin’ off on sucking my dick.”

Harry whines, the speed of his hand increasing as he drops his mouth further down, Niall’s fingers twisting into his hair as he feels his cock slides down Harry’s throat

“You’re literally gaggin’ for it,” Niall moans, fucking his hips forward into the tight heat of Harry’s mouth. Harry takes it like a champ, dropping his jaw and swallowing around him. “ _Shit_ , gonna come.”

Harry pulls back, tongue following the vein on Niall’s cock until he gets to the head. He sucks sloppily, saliva dripping down his chin and loud noises pouring from his mouth. It’s the way he hums that has Niall’s hips jerking, hand slamming back against the shelf as he comes in pulses down Harry’s throat.

Harry sucks until Niall pulls him off by his hair, and then he’s gasping against Niall’s hip as he strokes himself hard and fast.

“C’mon Hazza, come for me,” Niall says, cringing internally at the porn dialogue. It works, which Niall shouldn’t really be surprised about, but Harry’s groaning, teeth nipping at Niall’s skin while he comes over his fist.

Harry pulls off, staring up at Niall with a dazed look on his face. Niall thinks he could get used to Harry looking like this, lips swollen red with a flush covering his skin.

“Reckon we should get to that interview,” Harry says with a sheepish smile, and his voice is far raspier than it was when they arrived. “Might think we’re unprofessional if we’re late.”

Niall tucks himself back in his pants, runs a hand through his own hair in hopes it retains some of the style that Lou put into it. “You’re the one that dragged me in here. Couldn’t wait till we got back to a hotel, or on a plane? Had to blow me in a closet?”

Harry stumbles to his feet, nearly taking Niall out as does up his jeans. “Didn’t get to do it last night. Wanted to see if you tasted as good as I thought you would.”

Niall quirks a brow. “And?”

“You’re okay,” Harry says, and he manages to avoid the punch thrown his way. “Might need another go tonight to confirm things.”

Harry is literally going to be the death of him. “That’s okay with me,” Niall says, trying to sound indifferent but it comes out a little choked.

Later, when the interviewer has surrendered the microphone to Harry, Niall knows something’s up. It isn’t long before Harry’s got a glint in his eye and he’s staring at Niall with a knowing smile. “Who is the last person you had sex with?”

Niall nearly swallows his tongue.

* * *

 

**December 24th, 2014**

It’s always a little strange coming home for the holidays. Mullingar is so much quieter than London, or New York, which is where Niall’s coming from. There’s no hordes of screaming girls waiting for him when Basil pulls up outside his dads house. There’s no camera crew or paparazzi snapping videos and pictures as he unloads the trunk. It’s quiet, peaceful even.

“Niall,” Bobby says, pulling Niall into a hug. “It’s been a few months.”

“Yeah,” Niall agrees, throat getting tight. “Been crazy with the album release. They left most of the promo for last minute. Good to be back.”

Bobby claps him on the back and leads him inside. He’s sort of surprised to find his mum at the kitchen table, but he leans down and kisses her cheek any way.

“I missed you so much,” Maura says, and Niall can tell she’s already on the verge of tears.

“Missed ya too, mum,” says Niall, reaching down to give her a hug. “But I’m here now. Sorry I couldn’t get here till Christmas Eve. They wanted to do some meetings and stuff with us before we break until February.”

Maura and Bobby wave him off.

“S’alright, son,” Bobby says. “We get it, by now.”

Niall winces internally, mumbles something about putting his bags in his room and then he’s disappearing down the hall. Nothing’s changed when he pushes open his bedroom door, walls the exact same as when he left the last time. The bedding’s been switched so he can only assume his mum came in to tidy up before he got here. He pushes his bags into the corner of the room and sits down on the bed.

It’s quiet. So incredibly quiet that it’s making Niall’s ears ring even in the silence. It will be different tomorrow, when the entire family shows up and Theo is running about making a mess out of all the Christmas decorations.

Niall takes out his phone, thumb scrolling through his contacts until he lands on Harry. He presses call, frowning when it goes straight to voicemail. Harry’s always got his phone on, unless he’s flying. It hadn’t even occurred to Niall that he might still be on a plane home.

“Niall?” Bobby appears from around the corner, nearly giving Niall a heart attack. “Your mum and I are going to get some last minute things from the store. Be back in about an hour, yeah?”

“Yeah, course. Gotta unpack a bit. I’ll be fine, go ahead,” Niall says.

Bobby nods and closes the door as he leaves. Niall waits for the slam of the front door closing before he exits his room and heads towards the kitchen. It’s half two, so he figures he’s good to crack open a beer. Niall’s just about to sit down on the sofa when the doorbell rings. It’s only been less than an hour since he’s landed, and he’d already tweeted vaguely hinting at fans to leave him alone with his family during his Christmas break.

He must take too long to get off the couch because there’s a knock next, and when Niall listens as he walks he can hear that it’s to the beat of What Makes You Beautiful.

Niall swings open the door without checking the peep-hole and nearly drops his beer when his gaze settles on Harry.

“Haz?” Niall says it like a question, heart beating fast in his chest. “What are you doing here?”

Harry just grins, leans in to kiss him but it’s at that moment that Niall’s parents pull up the driveway. Niall ducks the kiss, lets it fall to his cheek instead. He tries to ignore the look of disappointment that crosses Harry’s face when he does.

“Niall? You didn’t tell us Harry was coming with you for the holidays!” Maura says, and Niall can tell how thrilled she is. “It’s been ages, Harry! I’m so happy to see you!”

“Ms. Gallagher, it’s lovely to see you as well,” Harry says, leaning in for a hug.

Maura rolls her eyes and swats at Harry’s jacket. “Call me Maura, love. Think you’ve been around long enough for that.”

“Always good to see you,” Bobby’s voice echoes in the yard. “Are you staying the night?”

“I thought I might,” Harry says, looking back at Niall with a frown. “Reckon I might grab a room at the hotel up the street instead.”

“Nonsense,” Bobby says. “You can stay with us. No one should be in a hotel on Christmas. We have room.”

Harry glances at Niall. “Is that okay with you, Ni?”

Niall swallows and looks at the ground. “Yeah, of course. Would love to have you. You can sleep in my room. C’mon.”

Harry follows him through the house, bag slung over his shoulder and not talking. Niall waits for him to walk into the bedroom, looks down the hall to make sure his parents aren’t hanging about and then closes the door behind them.

“You haven’t told your parents we’re dating?” Harry asks.

Niall wishes he sounded angry, instead he sounds disappointed and a little heartbroken. Which is a million times worse.

“Just got here an hour ago,” Niall says softly, looking down at the floor.

“You know what I mean, Ni,” Harry says, and the squeak of the bed springs lets Niall know he’s sitting down. “We’ve been like, official or whatever for over a month. Thought it would be the kind of thing you told them before you came home. ‘Mum, dad. By the way, I’m dating my band-mate.’”

Niall runs a hand through his hair. “S’not that easy for some of us, is it? You said it yourself, never showed interest in a lad before. Now I’m showing up for Christmas holidays with a boyfriend. My band-mate no less, Christ.”

“Are you afraid they won’t approve?” Harry asks. “Of me, or of your sexuality?”

“Harry, I don’t even know what I am,” Niall says angrily. “I don’t know if I’m bisexual, or if it’s just you or what. I know I still think girls are fit, but I’ve fancied you for months and I still don’t know what my sexuality is. How the hell am I meant to explain to my mum and dad?”

Harry stands up, sliding the buttons on his coat through their holes. “I’m just gonna go,” he says, reaching for his bag. “I’ll go to Holmes Chapel, tell mum that you didn’t have room for me or whatever.”

“Haz,” Niall says. “Hazza, stop. Of course I want to spend Christmas with you, stop that.”

“I told my mum the day after we hooked up, you know?” Harry says, and when he looks up Niall can see that his eyes are wet. “I’d been telling her I’d fancied you, and she was so happy for me. Reckoned you’d make a real man out of me.”

Niall closes the distance between them, gets an arm around Harry’s waist and tugs him in close. He has to flick his gaze up an inch so he can look into Harry’s eyes. “I’m not that close with mine, ya know? Me dad and I talk about everything, but if I don’t even know, how can I explain it? I knew my mum would be okay with it, but if she started asking questions I don’t know the answers for, how would that go over?”

Harry sniffles, and Niall has to kiss him. It’s a little wet, and Harry pulls away with a small laugh. “Just thought I’d turn up on your doorstep on Christmas Eve with this big romantic gesture, you know? Just assumed everything would be good.”

“Haz, love, when has assuming things ever worked out for you?” Niall teases gently, wiping away the wetness from beneath Harry’s eyes. “I’m happy you’re here, by the way. Just thought I’d clear that up. Just wasn’t expecting you. Caught me by surprise.”

Harry’s eyes glance back at Niall’s bed. “Remember the first time we slept in that bed together?”

Niall feels his face heat up, and he turns away. “We promised to never talk about that, mate.”

“What?” Harry’s grinning now, walking over and sitting down on the bed. “Woke up to you spooning me, hard against my backside. Half asleep and I grinded back against you. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you wake up and panic so fast. Not in four years.”

Niall remembers. Waking up to Harry in his arms, quite nearly naked with no t-shirt and a small pair of briefs. He’d barely been conscious when Harry had pressed back into his cock, making it settle into the cleft of his arse. Niall had woken up then, hurling himself out of bed and onto the floor with wide eyes. Harry had shrugged, said it was okay and that it was natural while Niall’s face had burned red. Niall will never forget.

“We could make some new memories?” Harry suggests, slipping off his coat.

Niall glances down, can tell by the outline of Harry’s jeans that he’s already half hard. “Haz, my parents are in the kitchen,” he says, but it doesn’t stop him from flipping the lock on the door and walking towards the bed.

“One way to tell them,” Harry says, pulling off his shirt and tossing it on the floor. “Make sure they hear you fucking your boyfriend.”

Niall’s cock twitches in his pants and he really, really hates that what Harry’s saying is turning him on. “Hazza,” he says quietly, standing between Harry’s legs.

Harry stares up at him while he tugs open his belt, leaning forward to lift Niall’s shirt to suck a mark into his hip. Niall can’t help it, his hips jerk forward at the pressure and Harry pulls him down into his lap.

“We shouldn’t,” Niall breathes, even as Harry’s hands slide down his back and grab his arse. “They could hear us.”

“S’okay,” Harry says into the skin of Niall’s neck.

There’s a knock on Niall’s door then, and it has both of them lurching away from each other so fast that Niall ends up on the floor. He scowls up at Harry as he collects himself, sticking his hand into his pants to adjust his cock.

“Yeah?” Niall calls, tossing Harry’s shirt at him.

“Just wondering if you boys wanted anything to drink?” Maura’s voice comes through the door, and Niall waits until Harry has his clothes on before opening it.

“Mum, actually. Is dad still around? There’s something I’d like to talk to you guys about,” Niall says, fast before he loses his nerve.

Harry’s staring at him with a confused expression on his face but Niall just gestures for him to follow.

Bobby’s in the kitchen putting food away, and Maura takes a seat at the table.

“Bobby? Niall’s got something he wants to talk to us about,” Maura says.

Niall swallows, chest getting tight but then Harry’s resting a palm on his back, thumb rubbing soothing circles until Niall relaxes. “Harry’s my boyfriend,” he ends up blurting, cringing when he does.

Bobby turns to look at him. “Like your mate?”

“No, dad. Um… remember when I dated Holly?” Niall says. “Harry’s more than my mate. We like, kiss and stuff,” Niall says.

Bobby nods. “Oh. That’s good, then. Harry’s a nice lad,” he says, going back to stick stuff in the freezer.

“Do the other boys know?” Maura asks.

Niall shrugs. “They might? I don’t know. It’s not something we’ve gone public with, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Maura chuckles. “Of course not, love. Would have read it in the papers by now, wouldn’t I have?”

Harry bursts out a laugh, and it makes Niall start laughing. It feels like a weight’s been lifted off his chest and he finds himself leaning into Harry’s side.

“My boy being good to you, Harry?” Bobby asks.

“Always has been, Mr. Horan,” Harry answers.

“Call me Bobby. We went through this the very first time you came here. Remember?”

Harry nods, fingers pressing into Niall’s skin. “If you don’t mind, Niall and I were thinking about laying down for a bit. It’s quite a long flight and we’re both tired.”

They excuse themselves to head back into Niall’s room, and this time it’s Harry flipping the lock over. He also shuts off the lights and sheds all of his clothes except for his briefs.

Niall’s having flashbacks. “I know we were interrupted,” he says, kicking off his pants. “And I’d quite like to fuck you… but I am exhausted.” He hadn’t noticed it until Harry mentioned it, but sleep is tugging at him as he crawls beneath the covers into bed.

“Me too,” Harry says, yawning. “If we hadn’t been interrupted…”

“Shh,” Niall says, opening his arms and gesturing for Harry to move back into him. “I’m the big spoon.”

Harry shuffles back, grabs Niall’s arm to link their fingers together against his stomach. “I’m the little spoon.”

“See ya in a few hours, babe,” Niall says, pressing a kiss to Harry’s shoulder as their legs tangle.

* * *

 

**December 25th, 2014**

Niall wakes to bright light shining through his curtains, and an incessant knocking on his bedroom door.

“Boys,” Maura says. “You’ve slept all night. It is Christmas morning. Time to wake up!”

“Be up in a minute!” Niall shouts, knowing his mum would stand there until he replied.

Niall burrows deeper into the covers, tightens his grip around Harry’s waist and nuzzles into his neck. “Babe, s’time to wake up.”

“No,” Harry says, tugging the covers further up to his face. “Few more hours.”

“Haz, my mum will come in and drag you out to the living room in your briefs,” Niall warns. “She doesn’t mess around on Christmas day.”

Harry turns his head then, small smile on his face. “Happy Christmas, Nialler.”

Niall grins, leans forward to press a kiss to Harry’s lips, morning breath be damned. “Happy Christmas, Hazza.”


End file.
